


Big Hill Residue

by festivalofpudding (berreh)



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP, Shower Sex, pour some sugar on me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:38:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berreh/pseuds/festivalofpudding
Summary: Link's got himself in a sticky situation.Written forthegreyhenleyon the occasion of her personal crisis with Rhett's thighs.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“ _You_ win. Thanks for liking, commenting, and subscribing.”

“You know what time it is.”

“....and cut.”

“Arghh!” Link laughed and shook himself, flinging soda in every direction. “It’s so cold, you guys!”

“Tasty though,” said Rhett, licking stray orange drops from his beard.

The crew had already swung into action, striking the set to get ready for the next segment. Stevie brought over two towels while Mike and Alex began taking down the plastic tarp behind them.

“Who’s got my glasses?” Link called.

“I do,” Chase answered. “I’m cleaning ‘em.”

“Bless you.” Link glanced at the towel but shook his head. “I gotta take a shower, Stevie. This stuff’s all in my hair, it’s everywhere.”

“I kinda like it,” Rhett said, sniffing an armpit. “It’s fresh.”

“That’s ‘cause you got the orange. I smell like some kind of nasty sno-cone.”

“Yes, yes, go,” said Stevie. “Just don’t take all day. Go on, go get changed.”

Behind him Alex muttered, “Yes, _please_ go get changed.”

Mike and Rhett giggled, and Link frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“Nothing, honey,” Stevie said. Now Alex was giggling too, and Link could hear tittering from the crew.

“What?!” he snapped. He looked down at himself - he wasn’t in any worse shape than Rhett. They both looked like idiots in their matching sodden t-shirts and ridiculously tiny shorts. Rhett’s were stained orange while his were kind of purplish brown, but they were both soaked to the skin in thin white cotton and―

His eyes went wide. “Oh gosh.”

Alex and Mike burst into laughter. Rhett and Stevie struggled not to join them, but the crew had no such compunctions. Turning away Link cried, “Aw, come on, y’all! I told you not to make them white!”

“You can hardly tell,” Stevie said. “It’s not a big deal. No one will notice.”

“Yeah, totally,” said Alex. “The internet _never_ notices stuff like that.”

Rhett stepped between them, shielding Link from view. “C’mon, guys, don’t embarrass him. They’re just messing with you, Link. Don't worry about it. Go on, go take a shower.”

“Man, y’all ain’t right,” Link grumbled. He fled the set, clutching his towel like a shield across his midsection.

In the shower room he let the towel drop and looked at himself in the mirror. There was no way around it: the wet shorts clung to him like a second skin and his business was on full display. How bad would it be on camera? Maybe no one would notice. Maybe they could fix it in post. Sighing, he peeled off the sticky wet t-shirt and dropped it on the floor. His skin felt tight and sugary, and he itched for a shower. He turned the knob to get the hot water going and hooked his thumbs in his shorts to pry them off.

“Wait.”

He turned to see Rhett approaching, still clad in orange-splattered white.

“We gotta redo the scene,” Link blurted. “I can’t have that out there.”

Rhett shook his head. “They were just messing with you, man. It’s not a big deal.”

Link shrugged and turned to adjust the hot water. Steam began to curl out from the shower, filling the little room with a warm haze. “I gotta wash my hair,” he said. “We can talk about this when I get out.” He reached for his shorts again, and flinched when Rhett grabbed him by the wrist.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t take my shorts off? Why not?”

Rhett pulled him forward, catching him off balance, and pushed him to his back against the tile wall.

“Because I wanna do it.”

“Rhett, we don’t have time, Stevie―”

“Stevie sent Kevin on a coffee run. I told her to.” He pressed their bodies together, pinning him to the wall, and Link could feel him stirring warm and hard beneath sticky cotton. Wet fabric slid between them, smelling of sugar and heat. Rhett bent his head to speak against Link’s ear. “We’re not going to redo the scene. We’re going to run it, and you’re not going to worry about it.”

Between strained breaths Link managed, “...Why not?”

“Because when you see your dick in those shorts, you’re going to remember what I did to it right after.”

He slid down Link’s body until he knelt on the tile.

“Your back― you’ll―”

“Stop,” Rhett said. He peeled off his shirt and wadded it beneath his knees, then looked up at Link and winked. Steam from the shower curled around him, frizzing his damp hair and flushing his face and chest with a fresh sheen of sweat. His shorts did nothing to hide him, huge and hard between spread thighs, slick pink head poking out from the waistband. He licked his lips and Link’s knees went weak.

Rhett took hold of Link’s shorts and eased them down, slowly, just enough for Link to spring free between them. He clenched both fists in the soaked fabric, using it to hold Link’s hips steady.

“You smell like grape Kool-Aid,” he said. His nose nudged through sticky-sweet hair, soft beard brushing Link’s skin until he bit his lip to keep from groaning. “Remember when we used to make popsicles out of Kool-Aid?”

“Mine always got stuck in the plastic thing,” Link said. “You would― oh... oh... oh...”

He reached down to clutch a handful of Rhett’s hair, spreading his other hand against the wall to keep himself from falling. Rhett’s fists in his shorts held him steady, kept him from bucking his hips as his knees trembled and his thighs began to twitch, then to shake violently. Long years of practice had made Rhett an expert and Link had no chance of lasting against that mouth, the strong warm lips and the hot hungry tongue and the soft beard brushing against his balls. The noise from the shower covered most of his moans, but when he came his high-pitched yelp echoed off the steamy wet tile. 

Rhett held him through the last shivering tremor, then sat back and drew a hand across his wet mouth.

“I would always get it unstuck,” he said.

Link shimmied free of his shorts and kicked them aside, then dropped to a squat and moved forward onto his knees, crawling forward until Rhett leaned back beneath him. He kissed Rhett quickly, shivering at the taste of himself mingled with sugary orange, remnants of spicy beard oil, and the familiar scent of their arousal. He held the kiss as long as he could, excited and greedy, but when he felt Rhett’s back tense he got up at once, helping Rhett haul himself to his feet.

The shower had a shelf seat built in, a feature Link had deemed necessary for scrubbing himself clean of whatever bizarre substances were involved in each day’s filming. Rhett shucked his own shorts and eased back onto it, long legs splayed out with his right foot under the spray. Link closed the shower door and knelt between Rhett's thighs, smiling. The water hit his back, washing him clean as it made him dizzy from steam and warmth. He sat down to spare his knees, curling his legs behind him, leaning in as close as possible as Rhett scooted forward to meet him. His hair fell in his face and Rhett reached down to smooth it back, grinning that lopsided grin at him.

Sweat ran down Rhett’s body, cutting rivulets through the orange soda matting the hair on his spread thighs. Link bent first to one, then the other, licking the sweet drops from each thigh. Rhett jerked and swore, balls tightening as his dick twitched against his belly. He tried to grab Link’s head but Link evaded his grip, pushing Rhett’s knees wider to get every sticky-sweet taste from those thighs. Only then did he turn his attention to what lay between them. Rhett swore again, and Link pulled back with a little slurping sound and raised an eyebrow.

“Language,” he said.

“C’mon, man,” Rhett gasped. “C’mon, I didn’t leave you hanging.”

His face was blurred at this distance, but Link didn’t need his glasses to see the need in Rhett’s eyes as he gnawed on his lower lip, holding himself up on shaking elbows, his hips squirming beneath Link’s grasp. 

“Look at you,” Link said softly. He wanted Link to remember this? Whenever he saw today’s episode he would remember nothing else. Smiling, he leaned in and put an end to Rhett’s misery.

Rhett yelped and clutched a fist in Link’s hair, his heels squeaking on the tile as his legs jerked and trembled in time with their increasing rhythm. He pushed up hard and Link took it all, hard again himself as he ran his thumbs in light circles over Rhett’s thighs, feeling the hairs rise in goosebumps, closer and closer. He knew from experience how long to tease, where to use his nails, and the exact moment to stop and grip Rhett’s hips with both hands, holding them still as his throat worked through each deep-throbbing tremor. Rhett made no effort to lower his voice, for they both knew no one could hear anything beyond the outer room. The useful shower seat had been Link’s design – the soundproofing had been Rhett’s.

When he finally went limp and gasping, Link sat back and washed off his face with a handful of hot water, grinning at Rhett from beneath the spray. Rhett ran a hand through his falling hair, propping the lopsided coif up for a few more moments while he caught his breath.

“I thought you didn’t like orange soda,” he said.

“I could get used to it,” said Link.

Rhett grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Sitting up with a lazy stretch, he added, “Well, if you're gonna wash your hair you better hurry up before the hot water runs out. Gimme my shampoo, I'll do mine too.”

They scrubbed up quickly, as the water was already beginning to turn tepid. When Link turned off the shower and opened the door, a cloud of white steam billowed out into the outer room. Their towels were damp from the humidity, but they dried themselves off as best they could. They’d be sweaty for awhile anyway.

As he toweled his hair Rhett said, “So you gonna be OK with the scene?”

Link sighed. “No, but I can let it go.”

“Miracles never cease,” said Rhett.

“I don’t want to do that again. It was gross. Besides... I have something else to think about now.”

“You better.” Rhett kissed him quickly, then turned to wrap his towel around his waist. As he wrung out orange-tinged water from his discarded clothes he said, “You think we could try Dr. Pepper later?”

“Don’t push it,” said Link. He knotted his towel around his hips and opened the door to the dressing room. As the cool air raised goosebumps on his shoulders, he said, “Though I wouldn’t be averse to some Big Hill Residue.”

“I can work with that,” said Rhett, following Link through the door.


End file.
